9/11/01
L. Mastalski 
We brought the candles up from the basement last night in preparation for later this evening. The candles, sunk in sand in canning jars, will be put on the posts at the end of the driveway and lit at dusk as they have been every September 11 since 2001.
There is a flag that hangs on the wooden railing of the one-lane bridge over the railroad down the street from me. The rail line travels to Newark Penn Station where the passengers change and board a train to New York. The flag is there to remember the passengers on that rail line that left their homes on September 11, 2001 and never returned. I'm fairly certain there will be candles there tomorrow night also.
Did I know anyone that perished that day - no not personally. But all of our lives were changed forever that day. The sadness and uncertainty was overwhelming at times. I remember the silence of the skies. I remember the panicked phone call from Rachel who was just starting her freshman year at college and away from home for the first time and trying to comfort and calm her all the while aching that we were apart. I remember travelling to Delaware the very next weekend for Freshman Parents Weekend and seeing the candlelight memorial along Rt. 95. I remember taking the rosary off my night table and using it. I remember waking Christopher who was home with me that morning (as he was, ironically, when the bomb went off in the World Trade Center in 93) and telling him that something horrible was happening, and calling my husband and actually watching the first tower collapse while we were on the phone, not being able to describe to him the shock of moment.
I was compelled to paint this picture. The vision that kept going through my head and the words that went with it. It was my self-imposed art therapy. Did it help me forget? No, but strangely enough, I do get some comfort from it.
I don't know if anyone will read this today, but if you do, I will not ask you to pray, but I will hope that you remember in your thoughts the victims, the survivors, the rescue workers, the families and all of us really, who have been changed forever.
We brought the candles up from the basement last night in preparation for later this evening. The candles, sunk in sand in canning jars, will be put on the posts at the end of the driveway and lit at dusk as they have been every September 11 since 2001.There is a flag that hangs on the wooden railing of the one-lane bridge over the railroad down the street from me. The rail line travels to Newark Penn Station where the passengers change and board a train to New York. The flag is there to remember the passengers on that rail line that left their homes on September 11, 2001 and never returned. I'm fairly certain there will be candles there tomorrow night also.
Did I know anyone that perished that day - no not personally. But all of our lives were changed forever that day. The sadness and uncertainty was overwhelming at times. I remember the silence of the skies. I remember the panicked phone call from Rachel who was just starting her freshman year at college and away from home for the first time and trying to comfort and calm her all the while aching that we were apart. I remember travelling to Delaware the very next weekend for Freshman Parents Weekend and seeing the candlelight memorial along Rt. 95. I remember taking the rosary off my night table and using it. I remember waking Christopher who was home with me that morning (as he was, ironically, when the bomb went off in the World Trade Center in 93) and telling him that something horrible was happening, and calling my husband and actually watching the first tower collapse while we were on the phone, not being able to describe to him the shock of moment.
I was compelled to paint this picture. The vision that kept going through my head and the words that went with it. It was my self-imposed art therapy. Did it help me forget? No, but strangely enough, I do get some comfort from it.
I don't know if anyone will read this today, but if you do, I will not ask you to pray, but I will hope that you remember in your thoughts the victims, the survivors, the rescue workers, the families and all of us really, who have been changed forever.
Please let me share this link to Dana's blog - I encourage you to read the tribute she has posted to her husband who worked as a volunteer at Ground Zero.
Wow, what a thoughtful painting. A lovely piece of art. Makes me think of 9/11 in a different way somehow. What a lovely thought to think of all the 'angels' making their way to heaven.
ReplyDeleteThat was just lovely. JUST LOVELY.......
ReplyDeleteVery Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing your touching painting us! I am sure that's just what happened.
ReplyDeleteGod Bless You!
This painting is absolutely amazing Lorraine. I've been exploring your blog for the last several hours (found you from Sam's sidebar at her blog http://alattestampin.blogspot.com/)and as much as I've loved quite a few of your posts and projects this one took my breath away. Oh how I would love to see this as a serigraph. I can imagine quite a few people wanting copies of this. It encapsulates so perfectly that day in our history and would also cover other days and other tragedies as well. Sept. 11th like the OKC bombing were surely busy days for all God's angels (had me thinking of the holocaust as well). And your post accompanying the picture was also heart touching even a year later. Since that day in 2001 I've felt compelled to turn on the news for just a few minutes every morning - just to check. Somehow on that day in 2001 it seemed terrible not to know that something was happening until a friend from the California Mission parish I belonged too called and asked me to bring my portable TV over to the church. Until that call it was a day like any other - after as I watched the second plane hit and the towers fall the world seemed changed forever. Americans are a bit naive about such things since unlike Europe such large scale attacks have not happpened here - nothing like England or other countries survived during WWI and WWII. No wonder we are in general such optimists and seem to have a sense of invulnerability. When you control a large part of a continent with Oceans as a barrier it's somewhat easier to be complacent and feel safe. Not so much now. Anyway I want to thank you for presenting your art therapy for others to benefit by as well. If you should ever decide to make copies I would appreciate knowing. There is a healing quality to your painting that so many could benefit from.
ReplyDeleteThanks again and bless you - Jean